Buster and I fight each night over who is going to comb Finn’s wet, sweet smelling hair. I love this part of the day where our baby girl is smelling fresh, clean, slurping on a bottle of milk, sitting up in her pink jellybean wondersuit. I part her honeyed locks and comb the runaway curls that sit at the bottom of her ears until a cute-as-can-be ducktail forms at the back of her head. I have to be quick to hold her attention for this long before she’s wriggling away from my grasp.
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